St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1887-09-25
TEDDY BURkE'S SAD FATE.
The Pluck Of a Poor Irish Lad Who
Was Adrift in a Great
City.
How He Pushed Arcola to Victory in a
Wonderful Rate at Sleeps
head Bay.
He Broke the Record and Won the
Plaudits Of Thousands, but Lost
- His Life.

~ EAVEN was In gracious
VI mood. 1t was a perfect
n 60 q May mOrning-cOol, pleas
SA 4HsNTant, with a soft breeze
STA blowing over the bay in
10 fcI TpuffS that toyed with the
flo O - ltress of Battery park and
W@.I Astirred up the dust that
VI H{Nwas left by the sweepers,
ISNY writes contributor to the
%TT%\ New York Evening Sun.
~ e 1t was 4: 80 by the clock on
the Produce exchange when head was
seen toemerge from beneath one of the
wharves facing on COenties slip. The
head had a shock of red hair that stray
gled through battered hat. Beneath
the hat was face that was study for
an artist-not for its loneliness, neither
for its ugliness. 1t was decidedly Irish,
covered with freckleS, sun-burned and
dirty. Yet from this mass of freckleS,
dirt and sunburn shone two blue eyes,
with CLINT of truth and deal of mis-
chief Two red hands clasped the edge
of the wharf, and, with an effort worthy
of an accomplished acrobat, the lad
landed himself upon the wharf, where
he executed a breakdown to timber HIM
self up.
He was gamin of the streets. His
clothing was not much to speak of, and
the soft morning wind blew through
them with the greatest freedom. Over
shirt of unbleached cotton two pieces
of tarred rope acted in lieu of suspend
erS, holding up pair of trousers made
the bottoms, displaying two sturdy legs,
tanned and dirty, SCARED with hard
knocks and sliverS from the wharveS.
The wearer of all this toggery was a
boy apparently eleven years old. After
executing his Jig, he stood on one foot,
thrust grimy hand into pocket and
drew out a handful of pennies, which lie
proceeded to count.
s'Dere's huff fur four WOrl's and tin
Suns. XII, but I'm late dis mornin'''
He replaced the pennies in his pocket
and started toward Whitehall street.
When he reached it he stopped to look
at some horses standing at Hamilton
ferry waiting for the gates to open.
81 guess dem is tOrObredS," he Solilo-
quiZed, and turned to go up town and
purchase his papers when one of the
men in charge of the horses shouted:
''Hello, there, you boy. Do you want a
job?"
s'Betcher life," retorted the boy.
s'Well, come over here. I'll give you
a dollar to ride one of these horses
and lead two more to Sheepshead Bay,
and pay your fare back"
''Dat's whack," said he, and, giving
a leg to the man, was hOisted ON the
back of a race horse in transit from Bal
timore to Sheepshead Bay track.
The journey was an uneyentful one
in one sense and an eventful one in an
other. The boy was asked his name,
and gave it. Teddy Burke was all the
name he knew of, though it might have
been anything else, as he didn't remem-
Der his father or mother.
u.What do you do for a living" asked
the trainer, who rode alongside.
II silks papers and does anything what
l can fur to make few cints. / sleep
in de dock"
How would you like to be a stable
boy, and learn to be a jockey?" kindly
asked his employer.
''JuS' as leave do that as not. Any
money in it?n
'li'iI give you 50 week and board,
and by and by, when you learn to ride,
you can make hundreds of dollars in a
week."
"Je Whit"
''Yes; I have known jockeys to get
$1,000 for winning one race"
''Goi on. Watcher givin' me? Tink
Pm a fool?''
s'Ha! Ihav Iaughed Johnson, for that
was the trainers name. You be good
boy, Teddy, and I'll make a man of you.
l think when you get the dirt washed
off, and suit of store clothes ON, that
you will be different boy. Ever ride
horse befOre?"
"No; never did"
stYou ride well. You sit like born
jockey"
''Bedad, l have to. 1 can't get down
widout breakin' me neck"
Thus was Teddy engaged as a stable
boy. He had never been over to Brook
lyn but once, and then he only went up
town as far as the city hall, anu didn't
think it half as nice as the City Hall
park in New York. But Oh this beauti-
full May morning he saw the budding,
poisoning and leafng of trees, and, as
they neared Gravesend. the farmers
early at work in the fields, the waving
masses of garden truck and the fresh
scent of. the grass. All was new, like
unto an unexplored world, to him. The
boy had a touch of poetry i'll his soul,
for more than once he pulled in his
horse that he might enjoy some particu-
larry fine aspect of nature, saying to
himself: 81 could always live here wild
de grass an de flowers. Dey're nicer
nor dey are in New York"
In due time they arrived at Sleeps
head Bay track. The string of sixteen
horses were costly quartered in the
model sheds, given their feed, and then
johnson turned and said kindly: ''Come
on, bub. We will tackle our fodder
nOw.p
But Teddy did not stir. There was
troubled look in his eyes. Johnson
turned again and asked, little i'm
patiently: what you thinking about?
Come on and eat"
~ forgot me pard, boss"
''Yis, boss. Larry Flanagan is me
pard. He's lame, Larry is; an durn if
l didn't forgit him. linus go back"
''See here, Teddy, I've taken liking
to you, and | want to keep you. You're
better off with me, my boy, than knock
ing around in the city. Can Larry do
anything?"
''He stills papers at de ferry, boss.
He's my pard. | buys de papers and de
grub, and goes snacks wild him. He
hain't got no farder no mudder,
needer."
''rll tell you what you do, Teddy.
Here's 50. Get on the train and go TO
New York. Find Larry and come back
the way you went. Bring him with
you. Eli find something for him to
do"
s'Thankee, boss. You're brick"
This compliment probably pleased
Mr.. Johnson more than any he had ever
received, for he knew that it came from
the boys heart. AT 4 o'clock ON that
day, when the trainer visited his stable,
there were Teddy and Larry, the latter
much the same as Teddy in his habila-
ments. Their faces shone with soap
and water. johnson showed them